


Valerie

by cowboycruncher



Series: Valdonia: Realm of Mages [8]
Category: Original Work, Valdonia: Realm of Mages
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Instability, Miscarriage, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27813391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboycruncher/pseuds/cowboycruncher
Summary: Perhaps she had been the only one to love him in the way he wanted, in the way he needed from someone. Their future together could never have been a reality, of this he is acutely aware of, but nonetheless his heart aches all the same.
Series: Valdonia: Realm of Mages [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934920
Kudos: 1





	Valerie

_Her soft hair runs through his fingers like expensive silk, seemingly bringing life to his chest by just her touch alone. The weight of her in his arms is grotesque - it is everything but right and comforting as it had always been, he is distraught and yet he cannot picture her face. Around him all is white, yet it does not make him feel innocent despite its meaningful connotation. Anger is almost what clouds his vision, it pounds against the corners of his line of vision in tandem with the beat of his heart; he feels as though he is speaking, but no sound registers._

_Frantically, he looks up from her as if in hope of summoning someone to assist him, but around him is only emptiness. He cannot fathom the lacking surroundings, it wades around him as if in heavy molten agony. More fearful silence meets him as he tries to move, sloshing unceremoniously through the milky white molasses that beckons his knees into weakening. He is helpless against it, and he finds himself falling._

* * *

Before he can register it, Ilias sat up, his breathing heavy against the eerie nothingness of his room; mouth so hot, the air punctuating from his lungs leaves streams within the windy currents surrounding him. Tears drip down his cheeks freely, and for once, he does not try to hide them from himself. Images of a newborn child wrapped in blankets, sleeping peacefully within what would have been his arms openly plague his mind. Surreptitiously, he swipes at his cheekbones, attempting to betray his liberty to cry unbiddenly.

There is no one there to comfort him anymore, and even after all the years that had come and gone, Ilias could not get over Valerie’s loss. Perhaps she had been the only one to love him in the way he wanted, in the way he needed from someone. Their future together could never have been a reality, of this he is acutely aware of, but nonetheless his heart aches all the same. 

Throwing the covers of his large bed aside, the professor donned his favorite wolfskin robe and marched from his sleeping quarters. The night air is somehow colder than his own dark, dim room and it is a comfort to him. Ethedrimas was always colder than the average man expected. 

The trek to the infirmary was one he did not like to make, especially in gratitude of what waited there. Nevertheless, a sleeping potion was needed if he wanted to be rid of his incessant nightmares.

Oberon looked up curiously when the doors to the infirmary dutifully open and close, and Ilias is almost upset that the man is still awake. Did he never sleep?

“Professor,” the physician chimed, his bandaged face morphing into as friendly a smile as he can manage in his state. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I just need a concoction for sleep, if you would.” The sniffle that would follow his words gave more away than he intended, for the medic’s eyeless expression fell. The smile dropped from his dry lips as he considered what was being asked of him. For his part, Ilias turned away, drawing the sides of his robe in closer to himself as a means of preservation for his shattered dignity. Asking things of their unorthodox health care expert was beyond what he would normally stoop toward, but images of Valerie - no.

Images of _her_ were unacceptable. _She_ was the reason that he had been landed with such a damning position at such a damned school, and _she_ was no better than a disease that had left him permanently crippled. Ilias glared at the wall as he pondered such a thought, waiting impatiently for Oberon to do _something_ other than sit there and attempt to analyze him based upon a mere slip of a nostril.

“Alright,” Oberon finally coos, standing. Erecting his cane from underneath his medical garb, he dutifully tapped away until he came upon one of his cupboards. Ilias watched from the sublime corner of his eye while the blind physician busied with opening, sniffing, and closing various vials until he found the one he was searching for. When he had discovered the one he intended to locate, he extended it out in Ilias’ direction as a silent _come get it_.

Narrowing his eyes grumpily at Oberon, he turned and with a dramatic (characteristic) flourish of his gown, he marched up to the doctor and attempted to snatch the container in question. Before he could, however, Oberon retracted it and turned to face him properly - or, rather, as well as he could considering his lack of… face.

“What plagues you, Professor?”

“Bad dreams. Nothing more. If you would be so kind-” Ilias repeated, eyes locked upon the liquid that would grant him peaceful unconsciousness. The bags weighing within his sockets made him feel as though he were top heavy, as this was not the first - nor would it be the last - night that images of her roamed freely within the scope of his mind.

“I won’t be granting you this until you tell me.” It came out as almost teasing as Oberon flipped the vial around between his fingers before he slipped it up his sleeve. “Does it have anything to do with your childhood?”

“No. It does not. And why you would presume that about me is despicable. As you know, I come from a respectable family. I will not have you making disgusting assumptions about them simply because of their political stature.” It came out gruff and mean, and that was exactly how he intended it to be. Oberon, however, was unphased, and that somehow peeved Ilias further.

“Is it about Valerie, then?”

“How do _you_ know about that?”

Oberon gave him a look, then, and Ilias had to resist the urge to verbally groan. Of course he knew about the intricate details of why each professor taught at the school - it should have been obvious. “What has Nicodemus, that rat, _spilled_ to you?”

“You will watch your tongue with me, boy.” Oberon snapped suddenly. It did its job, Ilias found himself stunned into silence. In all his time at the school, he had never witnessed such a commanding attitude from the gentle, yet odd doctor hidden in the corner of the courtyard. Taking a step back, Ilias then turned away from the taller of the two of them, drawing his robe close to his person once again.

The tension in Oberon’s shoulders dissipated when he realized he had made his point clear to his fellow water mage. “Nico has told me plenty about what happened- and I know that it’s not your fault. Love is blind, trust me,” his tone is soft at the end of his sentence and it earns Ilias’ attention once again.

It was then that he perceived Oberon for what he really was. All the teachers knew of the relations between the headmaster and the physician, but a recurring demand was _what did Nicodemus see in such a wyrm of a man_? But now he understood… somewhat. Pressing his hand to his lips, Ilias considered his thoughts, but they were too heavy for him to contemplate.

“She was with a child. I- I could’ve been a father.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” and it was the truth. A sigh heaves from his chest. “I wish she was here still, she didn’t deserve to die the way she did.”

“No one deserves to die, and yet she is gone. I feel as though you haven’t really accepted that fact yet. Nothing will bring her back, but she lives on within you. She had firm beliefs in a world that we cannot see or understand, and her beliefs are what caused the death of your child. There is nothing that you could’ve done to stop that, Ilias, and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent yourself from losing her. She knew she was committing treason, and she chose to do so.” Ilias is startled by one of Oberon’s large, boney hands coming to rest upon his shoulder - it’s cold, but yet, he is comforted. The truth chipped away at his heart, and once again he felt the burn of hot, salty water dripping from his face.

“You did the right thing by staying alive. You have a future, and your future is here with the students you teach and inspire every day. Here.” With that, the doctor placed the vial within the professor’s hand, forcing his fingers closed around the cold glass. “One sip a night. More won’t hurt, but I can’t guarantee that you’ll be awake before dinner the following day should you start feeling adventurous.” 

“Thank you.” It was all Ilias could get out. Without another word, he relinquished himself from Oberon’s touch and departed from the infirmary, all too aware of the eyeless stare upon his retreating figure.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about the universe where these characters are from? Check out the Discord server - to join, just shoot me a message @ cowboycruncher#7497.


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